


Falling Down on the Job

by Darth_Videtur



Series: Hot Pursuit [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Manipulative Palpatine, Possible unrequited lust, Starstruck Anakin, Tempting Situation, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7172501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Videtur/pseuds/Darth_Videtur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin faces one of the toughest missions of his life, in a certain way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Down on the Job

When you happen to be on Coruscant the next time a threat is made against the Chancellor’s life (and the Council bothers to let you know), you don’t take no for an answer. You will be there to protect him, and the Council can go stuff themselves if they don’t like it. But Obi-Wan intercedes for you, and you find yourself pouring over the reports from the SBI agents and his Red Guard detachment. You’ll be spending the night watching over him.

 

Now it’s evening, and you are sitting here in his office, in a chair next to his, and _he_ is the one comforting _you_ , of all things. You’ve tried to make him understand that this is serious. “Sir, you have to believe us, the threat is very real.”

 

He chuckles and folds his hand over yours, patting it gently. “Anakin, my office gets thousands of threatening comms each day. This is nothing particularly new.”

 

Your heart leaps in your chest and then lands like a stone in your stomach, completely paralyzed with the black dragon’s fear. “Thousands? That’s not right, that has to be - ”

 

He cuts you off with a soft smile. “Out of trillions, Anakin. The risk is very small of these threats ever taking form, and I have the best security available in the galaxy if they do. And now with you here, I truly have nothing to fear.”

 

You smile back, but it’s more of a frozen grimace. “I’ll protect you, sir. While I live, no harm will ever come to you.”

 

“That’s a promise I intend to collect on, my friend,” his smile widens with some mysterious internal humor, as if he knows a joke you don’t. You aren’t brave enough to ask him yet, so you get up from your chair and pace across the wide office.

 

“I’ll need to check the rooms here, sir. The threat was made against 500 Republica, but it may be a diversion.”

 

He stands as well and beckons to the doors leading to his inner office. “Security has already swept the complex one hundred times over, but a Jedi has senses beyond that. And you beyond most Jedi I know. I appreciate your concern, Anakin.”

 

You duck your shaggy head. “I just want to do my job well.” There isn’t any way you wouldn’t be concerned, you think, as you walk past him into the short hall between his offices. You will die before you let anything happen to him. You open your senses to the Force, stretching out into the walls and statuary, seeking danger, something out of place, anything unusual. The hallway is perfectly normal, and you nod.

 

He walks past you in an intoxicating rustle of rich robes and palms the panel to the inner office door. This room hums with energy. It’s the resting place of the most brilliant mind in the galaxy, and you can sense true power in this room. The trappings here are understated and dark. In contrast to his main office, things here are charcoal grey and black by design, a shadowy place that actually reminds you of a brain, and all the blinking lights along the consoles are the flashing neurons that connect the known galaxy.

 

You step into the center of the room and turn in a slow circle. It’s harder to focus on your job here, because this place is _him_. It does not help that he is standing a few feet behind you, watching you curiously. You double your focus, and nothing raises an alarm. “I think we’re good to go here, Chancellor.”

 

He smiles brightly at you. “Excellent, Anakin. I confess I was hoping you would say that.”

 

You smile clumsily back, you’ve always been awkward with levity, and his sense of humor catches you by surprise most of the time. You pause. “Are there… are there any other rooms to check, sir?”

 

He nods slowly. “There is the private suite, of course, but I can’t imagine that anyone would have access to that. It’s more restricted than these offices.”

 

“Still, I’ll feel better if we check them,” you manage to say, because the minute he said “private suite,” your mind went places that make your cheeks burn if you spend a long enough time thinking about them. A part of you thrills at the thought of getting a glimpse into his private life, of seeing something the rest of the galaxy will never hope to see. Curiosity makes you bolder. “Lead the way, Chancellor.”

 

He pauses, his face strangely blank, and you wonder if he is embarrassed to show you in. He is a very private man, after all. But he nods at last and walks to a smaller door on the other wall of the office. “It isn’t really very grand,” he admits to you as the door opens. You follow him into a small, curved hallway that wraps around the outer edge of the office until you reach a door at the curve’s center.

 

“Here we are,” he says quietly and waves it open, stepping inside and then turning to see your reaction.

For a moment, you’re breathless as you walk to his side. Right in front of you is a raised bed on a priceless hardwood stand and lush grey carpets. You can see a massive walk-in closet out of the corner of your right eye, and several dressers and drawers out of your left, but the bed holds your attention just as you feared it would.

 

Really though, other than the red walls (and those scream Palpatine) there’s nothing here that outright speaks to his presence in any way, no statues or piles of papers. He was right; the room is cold and devoid of any real personal touches. You’re grateful for this small mercy, but even then, you can sense he has been here.

 

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says quietly and steps back into the hallway for a moment when his comm beeps insistently. “I should take this call.”

 

Alone, you inhale slowly. You’re in _his_ bedroom, looking at _his_ bed. And because you are, your mind is awash in images that shouldn’t be happening. Your ears are filled with sounds that can’t be described as anything else but _completely decadent_. Your mind closes up with horror and desire both. How ashamed would he be of you, if he knew? If he even suspected? But that doesn’t stop the hardness below your belt or the breath catching in your throat.

_He moans, flushing red, as you run your hands down his trembling sides. The skin is softer and more delicate than you even imagined, but under it is steel and power coiled tightly, waiting for you to force its release. The power makes you giddy; you stretch down and catch his lips with yours, muting the sound and vibrating it through your bones. You watch his hands clench in the silk sheets, helpless under you, not even really resisting what you both deeply, desperately want…_

 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, stone still and staring at the bed, lost in your fantasy, but a soft presence suddenly in the room startles you back to the present. You turn sharply to find Palpatine at your side, his pale eyes studying you. Surreptitiously, you check to make sure your robes are carefully arranged and nothing is evident.

 

He doesn’t appear to notice. “I’ve never seen a Jedi work quite like that. Staring dramatically into the middle distance.” The corner of his mouth quirks upward. “Most intriguing.”

 

You flush at his gentle teasing. “I’m sorry, sir, I got distracted. I’ve… I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

 

“If I had been an assassin, I think I might have stood a chance,” he chuckles. “Then again, as if. Are you certain you are all right, Anakin? I fear we’re asking too much of you once again.”

 

His words, spoken in jest, dismay you. Yes, he might have been an assassin, and you would never have known. Palpatine could have been dead on the floor because you are a love struck cub. You hide your flinch desperately. “Not at all, sir. I promise I won’t get distracted again.”

 

“I sincerely doubt anything will come of this,” he says in a clear effort to put you at ease, and that caring act sends you spiraling hopelessly deeper. He has always cared about you and been kind, even when you were young and relatively useless, and no one knew what kind of a Jedi you would be. If you would even _be_ a Jedi.  

 

He looks at you more closely when you don’t reply, almost worried. “Did you sense anything amiss, my friend?”

_Yes. Too much. But it’s not terrorists or assassins. It’s that you and that bed are too close together right now, and I’m too close to you._ How easy it would be to toss him gently onto the soft comforter, to climb on over him and…

 

You fight the thought away and force a smile, trying to distance yourself from this moment. “No, Your Excellency. I think the apartment is as secure as it’s going to get, and I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Good,” he clasps his hands together and smiles again. “With you as my bodyguard, Anakin, I will sleep well tonight.”

 

You clear your throat. “You… do you normally have trouble sleeping, Chancellor?”

 

“Ahh… The caf mugs in the office don’t give it away?” he asks with a sigh, turning and walking out of the bedroom back to his inner office, and you fall into step beside him. “You know I have much to think about, Anakin. Sometimes, running a government like this, in war… well, it wears on one eventually.”

 

You swallow a protest and say, “I imagine so, sir.” He shouldn’t allow the galaxy to deprive him of rest, of his own health. He gives too much, too freely, and the worlds take it without a word of gratitude. If only you could make them see just what they have here.

 

If only he could see how you would never take him for granted…

 

It’s no use thinking about it, though, not when he will never notice.

 

“Have you eaten, Anakin?” he asks suddenly, turning toward you as you both reenter the inner office.

 

“Uh, yeah, uh, I had a rock-bar before I came over from the Temple.”

 

His nose wrinkles with delicate distaste. “I don’t consider that eating, not in the traditional sense at least. Come along.”  

 

You follow him into the hallway leading back to the main office. “Well, they’re actually really good, if you can get past the texture, and the taste.”

 

He laughs softly, and the sound soothes your bundled nerves like a drug. “I am sure of it, but nonetheless, I intend to find something of higher quality than that.” He walks behind his desk and pulls up his commlink, and in a moment the Rodian aide is waiting attentively in shimmering blue.

 

“Knight Skywalker needs dinner, Dar Wac,” the Chancellor tells him in Huttese, and you startle to remember that he knows the rough language. He catches your flinch out of the corner of his eye and finishes the comm with an enigmatic smile. “Naboo isn’t exactly a Core World, Anakin.”

 

“It’s still strange,” you dare to tease him a bit in return. It just… doesn’t mix. He’s the definition of refinement, and Huttese… well, it isn’t. And it makes you think of Tatooine and all the depressing things of that world.

 

Palpatine smirks and leans back in his chair. “We all have hidden talents, I’m sure.”

 

“Not me,” you laugh nervously. “I’m just a boring Jedi.”

 

His face smooths out. “Jedi are many things, Anakin, but boring is not one of them.”

 

The words slip out before you can stop them. “Did Master Yoda give you a hard time today, Chancellor?” You want to kick yourself when his gaze grows more formal, more distant. You’ve gone too far with your teasing. This isn’t an ordinary man. He’s too elegant, too formal. _Kriff, Anakin_ , you tell yourself, _he’s halfway to royal on his own planet._

 

Perhaps you didn’t ruin everything, because he is clearly thinking back over the meeting he had with the High Council today. You wince; relations between the two have not been the strongest during this war. The Jedi are overwhelmed and stressed, the Chancellor desperate to hold a galaxy together with his hands, and the result is tension strong enough to snap on some days.

 

“I apologize, sir, that was inappropriate of me,” you finally offer, and he looks at you, surprised.

 

“Not at all, Anakin.” A long sigh. “The Council did not see eye to eye on the issue today. I am mildly bemused by it.”

 

“The Council bemuses everyone sometimes, Chancellor.” You are thrilled at the soft chuckle of a reply, that he is willing to take you into his confidence like this, like the Council would never dream of doing. You feel your shoulders straighten, your heart pound deep in your chest.

 

He trusts you, and for that you would give him anything. No, everything.

 

But he won’t take what you want to give him the most.

 

He is looking at you, and he must see the despair on your face, because his smile fades. “Anakin, I’m sorry that you are caught in the middle of this so often. It is truly unfair to you.”

 

You blink. He knows. You want to pour your heart out to him, to tell him everything, but that wouldn’t be fair to him, either. He has a galaxy to run, and you are one small Jedi. It’s enough that he knows. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me.”

 

The food comes then, a deliciously smelling platter of meats and vegetables, and your mouth waters in anticipation. Palpatine waves you away when you offer the platter to him; he had already eaten his dinner before you arrived. You entertain the thought of sharing the meal – _of feeding him delightful tidbits with your hand, of his tongue curling timidly around your fingertips –_ but of course that will never happen.

 

You eat ravenously, and he watches you, gently amused by your enthusiasm. As the pile of food shrinks, your conversation grows, and the two of you speak of many things long after the food is gone. Your last mission. Obi-Wan’s health after the last mission. Ahsoka’s training. The latest bill in the Senate. The latest madness of Dooku and Grievous. He treats you like an equal when you talk, and he pauses and takes the time to listen to your opinions.

 

He takes you seriously.

 

Time passes much too quickly. The sky outside the window has grown completely dark for some time already, and Palpatine finally glances at the chronometer. “I believe I shall retire for the evening, Anakin,” he says rising from his chair. You do too, much less gracefully than he does, and manage an awkward bow.

 

“If you don’t mind, Your Excellency, I’ll position myself right outside your room.”

 

He hesitates for a moment, thinks about protesting – you can see it on his face – and finally nods. “I would be grateful, Anakin.”

 

You follow him back through the halls and the inner office, and when you reach his bedroom door, you have to force yourself not to follow him in. He pauses in the doorframe and glances back at you, face kind but unreadable. “Goodnight, my friend. I trust we will all still be here in the morning.”

 

“Yes, sir,” you promise. “I won’t leave.”

 

“You are a good man, Anakin,” he says, a strange light in his eyes, then he is moving away and the door is shutting. You lean back against one of the walls and sigh. This is going to be a long night.

 

And it gets worse, because you hear the shower in the refresher unit turn on, and your body turns on right along with it. You will the hardness away, but your mind is less tame, whisking you to a dozen thoughts, each worse than the last. _He’s showering… water sluicing over pale shoulders… down lean limbs... oh Force help!_ You sink into meditation as quickly as you can, hoping to drown out the sound of water. It helps, a little, the real relief coming when the water shuts off.

 

Then of course it gets worse again, because now you can imagine him climbing into the soft bed. You wonder how he sleeps. Does he curl on his side, with his blankets pulled tightly to his chin? Does he lay on his back, limbs splayed and sheets twisted? You blush at the next thought: does he wear nightclothes? And suddenly you can imagine him stretched out on his back, asleep, the sheets slung low across bared hips, providing only enough modesty to tease your imagination endlessly. You suck in a small groan and bury your face in your flesh and metal hands.

 

This is going to be the longest night of your life.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to disappoint, Anakin, but he probably wears a nightgown buttoned up to his chin, that probably halfway looks like what he wears during the day. xD 
> 
> You guys enjoy it? :D


End file.
